September 11

Today's the day when we normally hold the moment of silence, but I don't think there's much to commemorate anymore.

Everybody just shuffled around today, doing what we do every day: watering the sprouting plants, pushing firewood into the fireplace, sitting around and eating a bit. Sometimes, everything that's happening feels like a skipping stone, where we're jumping from one disaster to another with boredom and mundanity filling up the moments in between.

The only thing different was when Mom took me to the kitchen. I thought I was in trouble and that she'd found out about Charles and the food cans, and even though I kept a bored face, I was literally panicking because I didn't have a good excuse for this. But thankfully, she asked, "Can you keep May busy on Wednesday?"

I was probably too surprised by this question since I expected the whole "Why are you smuggling cans of food?" or "I know what you did" because she asked that again before I managed to stammer out, "Why?"

"I'm planning something special," Mom said. "For May's birthday. This Thursday."

"Oh, yeah," I said because I had completely forgotten that her birthday was coming up. I knew she told me a week or so back, but it just slipped out of my mind. "Do Mira and Dad know?"

Mom nodded. "We're planning something special for her. This has been tough on her because I know that you've got Charles and Mira's got Leon, but I don't think May has seen her friends for a while now."

"Do you think we should invite them over?" I asked. "Though it might ruin the surprise a bit since we're probably going to ask May about it, but still."

"It's too dangerous," Mom said. "I— We just haven't seen much of them, and it will be too dangerous. People have changed too much, and I'm worried—"

"I get it," I said. "I'll figure something out."

And we shuffled towards our separate ways as I plopped on the couch, staring at the crackling fireplace and thinking about 9/11. Every single year, my teachers hold that moment of silence about 9/11 before asking whether any of us were born before 9/11, and every year, they'd have the same comment about how our grade was the first year of all post-9/11 kids. They'd always say how lucky we were to be born after that tragedy, but it looks like karma caught us because we got caught in something much worse. I don't know if there even will be enough people to have a post-Mooncrash generation.

Even so, I wonder what they'd think about us. I don't know if it was happening today or yesterday, but some people from the town must've raided the cities to the north of us or at least tried to. I'm trying not to think about it, and I think we're all trying to avoid talking about it, but a lot of people must've died fighting over tin cans and jars of calorie-filled goo. Those future people would probably think that we were savages and cruel, and they'd be both right and wrong because this cruelty and selfishness isn't a choice but a means for survival. I know that it sounds like I'm justifying the actions of the raiders, and I'm not, but I don't know. I don't know anything anymore.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Dinner was the same as usual, Dad telling all of us the schedule for tomorrow, where Mira, May, and I had to go and gather water while he and Mom were chopping firewood. He wanted us to gather more than fifteen buckets, about twenty this time, because we all stank since we ran out of showering water a couple days back.

May wasn't really happy about this. "More water buckets? It's my birthday week."

"I can take some," Mira said. "Actually, Neal and I can do all of your water gathering tomorrow."

I groaned a little but nodded. May didn't say much for a bit before saying, "Whatever. I'll just do it. But I'm remembering this for my sweet sixteen, so you guys better get me a car and some new leggings."

"If—" Mom said before quickly changing it. "When we make it to your sixteenth birthday, you can get whatever you want."

"Then, can I get a Ferrari?" May asked, half jokingly, half seriously.

"It was to be within a budget," Mom said with a small smile.

"Are you still obsessed with saving money? Even after the world has ended."

"We still need to be prepared for what comes after," Mom said. "And plus, learning to budget is going to be a good habit too, especially for college and adulthood."

No one really said anything right after Mom said that because just thinking about the idea of going to college (or in Mira's case, going back to college) seemed both funny and depressing at the same time. For Mom to even suggest that college would be open in the near future given the fact that our world is half-buried under ash and half-flooded under the sea was hilarious in the saddest way possible.

May turned to Mom. "You still think college, of all things, is coming back if the world stops coming to an end?"

Mom took a deep breath and gave one of her long sighs. "It's better to think about it that way, so that we don't get used to the guns and violence around us because that's not going to last forever."

"Because everyone will kill each other at some point," May said. "I think I've just found the solution to world peace guys."

"This isn't something we joke about anymore, May," Dad said, holding Mom's hand as he joined this conversation. "And no, everyone's not going to kill each other because there's a reason that humanity has lasted this long, and it's not because people decided to start murdering each other."

I don't think Dad or Mom believed in what they said because just yesterday, we were all talking about taking out guns to protect ourselves and shoot other people. It's like they're just trying to tell a nice story to us and themselves because what's happening now is just too much for them to handle.

I pulled out the book once again, sneaking into the bathroom and grabbing the book out from within the depths of the cabinet. While I was sitting next to the fireplace, I nearly had a panic attack when May moved around on her bed because I thought she had woken up. I know that this fear is completely irrational because there's no shame in liking guys and reading romance. But still, I guess just the idea of someone knowing or even suspecting anything about my, not love, but attraction, scares me.

I guess I'm just too weird around being personal because that's probably why the scariest portion of the book to read was just one guy telling another guy that he cares about him and that he loves him. I'm trying to imagine this scenario, standing in front of a guy that I care about and maybe holding his hands with our fingers intertwined and saying the words "I care about you" or worse, "I love you," but I just can't even imagine saying those words. It just feels too close, too risky, and maybe I'm not made for this type of love.

All the books make the closeness of relationships to be warm and glowing and right, and even reading them, without overthinking it, it feels right. But as soon as I picture myself there, this picturesque image crumbles apart like a mound of ash.